


We'll take what's afforded us

by a_wonderingmind



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 12:50:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19020277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_wonderingmind/pseuds/a_wonderingmind
Summary: Three moments in time, loosely related to life and death (it's not as dramatic as that makes it sound though, keep your expectations moderate)





	1. Almost dead yesterday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



_March, 1947_

The first thing Jack became aware of was how bright it was in this room. It smelled weird too. Almost too clean, like iodine. Oh. That explained the odd sensation in his hand then. Coming to properly, he took in the room - one window and one door, a shadow of a person behind it, the whole thing painted in the washed out mint green and yellow that seemed to be in every hospital nowadays. There was a chair in the corner, and in the chair was Peggy, shoes off and curled up as if she’d been there for hours. Her hair looked like it too.

He’d meant to come out with some witty one liner like ‘just couldn't leave me, eh Marge,’ but what actually came out was raspy and almost unrecognisable as words.

He was at first taken aback by his own voice, or lack thereof. He then heard a quiet snuffle from the corner, alerting him to somebody’s presence.

“Ah, you’re awake, thank heavens.”

He managed to push out an “Observant as ever,” before giving into a coughing fit so large he felt like his lungs were halfway up his windpipe already. 

“Water?”

He gave her a look indicating absolute indignance.

“Yes, no need to be a sourpuss,” she smiled.

He begrudgingly took the straw offered to him. The water was like a breath of fresh air, and he took down as much as he could before he started spluttering again.

“What happened?”

“You were shot in the chest, probably close range. We’ll need to see what you remember when we know you’re fully lucid.”

He almost didn’t hear the tail end of the sentence for a sudden bout of dizziness.

“Fully lucid?”

“You’ve been alternately out cold or spilling your guts to the nearest thing that moves for the last three days, you gorm.”

Becoming uncomfortably aware of the hand Peggy had placed on his shoulder, he hoped some of the most inappropriate thoughts hadn’t been revealed, especially to the two people in them. He tried to force out a question about what exactly he had revealed, but all he could focus on was Peggy’s warm hand and the pull of the blackness that was creeping into the edges of his vision...

* * *

Then next time he woke up there was two voices, belonging to a man and a woman. Somewhere in the fog of his mind he managed to identify them as Peggy and Daniel. They were talking strangely quietly. He cracked open one eye, adjusting to the brightness, registering the fact there was only one figure sitting in the chair; or wait, was it? It couldn’t be, could it…

“You two?” he spluttered, before a hacking cough overtook all attempts at speech.

Peggy sprung out of Daniel’s lap as if shocked with a cattle poke.

“You two lovebirds finally did it, then?” he continued after taking the proffered water from Peggy.

The silence and red cheeks were all the answer he needed. His heart sank in a way he wasn’t ready to analyse in this state. He was happy for them, of course, but still. He tried to push the, what was it, fondness? affection? admiration? away at seeing Daniel’s beet red face. It was almost cute - no, he didn’t need to have those thoughts. They both had a hand on him, Daniel reaching for his shoulder, Peggy kneeling by his arm. He wanted to shrug them off in an anger coming from somewhere other than him, but the encroaching darkness fogged his brain again. As the window to consciousness closed, he could have sworn he heard his name, but it must just be the drugs…

The two stood by the fading Jack, both wrapped up in their own thoughts and worries.

“He’s kinda cute when he sleeps, isn’t he?”

Peggy hummed in agreement. 

“You know we talked about opening up our relationship? Why not with Jack?”

She considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I’d like to do that.”

* * *

They were sending the stationed officer out. Even with his still semi-addled brain, he could tell that meant something. What though, that was yet to be revealed to him. They were nervous. They’d been in here together before after he’d discovered about them, but never had poor Daniel worn his heart on his sleeve quite like this before. He had seen flashes of it in the last days, becoming ever more aware and indulging in the ease of the three of them (only because the drugs had weakened his willpower, he told himself).

Peggy shut the door. Slightly unusual. Daniel was moving the chairs closer to the bed. Also unusual. Normally they just sat where they fell. 

“Jack… we wanted to talk to you,” Daniel started.

“Yes, okay, I know what you’re gonna say,”

“ You do? Oh thank god - ”

Peggy shot Daniel a stare as he continued, “You want to stay in LA, Marge, and Danny boy is asking please pretty please can I steal your best agent because I’m madly in love with her but of course don’t put that on the transfer papers because that’s far too unprof - ” 

He was interrupted by Daniel quite rudely, and with rather more feeling than expected, planting a firm kiss on his lips. Jack catalogued the gentle hand on his cheek, the other supporting Daniel’s weight directly over his, his body’s humming response to the contact, a hand curling in Daniel’s black hair, before reason took over and what the hell just happened why is Marge’s boyfriend kissing me in front of her and I shouldn't be enjoying this and Oh god but I do and as he felt himself pushing away he looked up at Daniel, hair curly and mussed, cheeks red, and it was all he could do to tear his gaze away to look up at Peggy, who just had an amused smirk and a cocked eyebrow.

“How’s that for unprofessional?” she quipped. “I was hoping that we would be able to get further in to our request - ” 

“Request?”

“Yes, request,” she said, without missing a beat, “but I had anticipated some smartassery from you, so I thought we might have to do something of that manner, though not in as many words.”

She was making heart eyes at Daniel over his head, he could feel it. Which just left him more confused as to where he stood. 

Daniel started again, the hint of a quiver in his voice.

“It’s painfully obvious, looking back, that you were messing me about when you sent Peg to me as your ‘best man for the job’, if for nothing else than your own personal gain, but it is clear to me now that you saw a bit more than I did - having shut out the hope for what I wanted. I was unable, or unwilling, to see what was in front of me,”

He smiled at Peggy, and she continued on, picking up where he left off - 

“It took a while, but we let each other in, in no small part thanks to you, Jack. We’ve talked a lot about this, us, in the last month, but somehow it didn’t feel quite right just the two of us. So... 

She looked at Daniel, and they both took one of his hands each.

“...we’d like to let you in, too, if you’ll have us?”

He looked at both of them, almost not believing that this was happening.

“How much morphine am I on? This is a definitely a dream, right? I’m hearing you wrong. You aren’t actually suggesting anything like that?”

“In that order,” Daniel grinned, “Only 50mg, definitely not, your hearing is fine, and yes, we are.”

“Are you sure? You’re not a dream Daniel my delirious mind has made up, standing with a dream Peggy trying to - ow!”

Peggy withdrew her hand to avoid his return pinch, which was admittedly very off-target.

“Definitely not a dream,” she grinned.

“But...why?”

“Because we want you!” Peggy exclaimed, “We want to be romantically involved with you, if you want us to.”

Noticing that their hands had drifted during the conversation, but not very far, he grabbed them and said “Sure, why the hell not?”

The returning smiles were all he’d ever wanted. 

And oh God, was he going to enjoy what was afforded him.


	2. Maybe dead tomorrow

_October, 1972_

“Thank you, Doctor,” Peggy nodded, as the doctor turned away to continue his rounds.

She turned to see Jack walking down the corridor, his dark coat in stark contrast to the white walls reflecting neon lights.

She falls into his arms, and he receives her as though it was a practised dance.

“You’ve contacted Edie and Michael?"

“Yeah, I managed to reach Michael, but I left a message with Edie’s dean, hopefully they’ll tell her in the morning,”

The silence stretched before them. Their eyes met, communicating everything they could, would with a kiss, if they were at home.

Peggy led him to the brittle plastic chairs and they sat, silence still stretching, her head on his shoulder, his hand in hers, gaining all the comfort the other as they could.

“What did Dr. Franken have to say?”

“They suspect IPF, scarring on his lungs. Just done surgery on him to take tissue for the biopsy to confirm, but from the X-ray it seems overwhelmingly likely.”

“How?”

“God knows. He doesn’t smoke, got no family history, doesn’t work with dangerous chemicals - ”

Jack sat bolt upright. 

“Midnight Oil.”

“What?”

“In the theatre, he didn’t half get a mouthful, did he? It wasn’t really designed for people to survive long after inhaling either.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Yeah,” she sniffled, “Even you’re picking up my Britishisms,” she laughed wetly.

Just then, Dr. Franken returned.

“He’s just waking up from the anaesthetic, down the hall, turn the corner, and the second on the left if you want to see him.”

“Thank you,” they both replied, her quieter than him.

Walking down the corridor, Peggy felt Jack catch her hand and interlock his fingers with his. She breathed a long sigh, revelling in his warm hand pressed against hers.

As much as Jack could be the antagonist sometimes, she was really glad to have him. He’d been the one to suggest that her and Daniel get married, because ‘Of course not, Peg think how that’d look - the unmarried director of a federal agency having children with one of her agents.’ He was infuriatingly right of course, very good at ‘image’, and an excellent PR director. (If it kept him close, then all the better.) He’d been so understanding about the reasoning behind being ‘Uncle Jack’ until the kids were old enough to grasp there were some things one did not talk about in Polite Society. Daniel felt it most keenly, she thought, that he wasn’t included in the way most fathers were. They had found a good way to dedicate themselves, she smiled, as she felt the watch she gave him brush against her wrist. He had been almost self-sacrificial, in the beginning, but she liked to think that with small touches and kind words they’d loved it away a bit over the years.

She pulled the door behind her as they rounded the corner and placed a kiss on the edge of his lips.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,”

“Likewise,” he replied distractedly, eyes landing on the figure in the bed. 

It was strange, to see him so motionless. Propped up and hooked up, he looked like a doll that a child had played doctor with. There was a bandage wrapped around his head from where he had collapsed, the catalyst for this whole hospital trip, freshly dressed. He had tubes coming off both sides. A gap on his left side where the leg should be, highlighted by thin blankets. He was so pale.

Kneeling by his bedside, Jack’s comforting hand on her back, she ran her hands through Daniel’s now more salt than pepper hair and pressed kisses to his forehead, just glad he was still here, still breathing.

“Wake up, Killer,” she heard from behind her, almost timidly, as if he was scared.

“Huh, you haven’t called me that in years,” another voice said raspily. Jack seemed to jump to his side and stroked his head.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she sighed.

“So am I,” replied Daniel dryly, taking a sip of the water Peggy held up to him.

They all chuckled.

“So - lung scarring? The nurse told me. That would explain why I was never able to run as far as I used to,”

“I think that might just be because you’re old,” Jack winked. “Old man,”

“Hey! Cause you’re still fit as a fiddle too!”

“We think it may be the Midnight Oil,” Peggy said solemnly.

He looked confused for a minute, but then recognition dawned on his face. “Oh.” 

It went still, for a moment, then Daniel broke the silence again - “I can still feel where they cut a hole in me, but it’s achey, not screaming at me, which is nice. They said I could go home today as well, as long as I was with someone.”

“I don’t think that should be a problem.” Peggy laughed. 

And so a half hour later they were wheeling him out, half marvelling at how far medicine had come in the previous decades, half consumed with what was surely coming next.

* * *

Jack was the first to shed a tear, actually. 

They were all sitting on the sofa not watching the news, being much more interested in each other when the phone rang. They all looked at Jack expectantly.

“Ugh, guys - ” he started.

“My leg’s off, don’t look at me - ”

“Please Marge?”

“Be quiet Jack, you’re nearer,”

He gave in, and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, house Sousa, - yes,”

Covering the speaker he mouthed “the hospital,”

“Who am I? Jack, close family friend - no, yes his wife is here. I understand, I’ll have to see about getting on the nominated person list then,” he said jokingly, gesturing Peggy over.

“I’ll pass you over,”

He returned to the sofa, reaching purposefully for Daniel’s hand.

“I’m serious about getting on the nominated person list, y’know,” he said sincerely, all the while keeping half an eye on the phone conversation happening in the corner.

“I’ll see about getting it done,” Daniel replied. 

Peggy put the phone down with a click and settled back in.

“It’s as they expected - Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, no cure, the doctor said,”

She stroked Daniel’s temple above the bandage, and Jack gripped harder at his hand.

“How long?” Jack’s voice cracked.

“Months, years, maybe three, five if we’re lucky - but the doctors said it’s so hard to tell, they just,” her voice hitched, “can’t say.”

Daniel lifted his hand to wipe away the single tear on Jack’s cheek, planting a kiss where it had been. He pulled them both into a tight hug.

Peggy could feel his grip tighten around her and his head resting on hers.

“Hey,” he said gently, “we’ve survived worse, haven’t we?”

She let out a wet laugh, and heard a similar noise from across from her. She reached over for Jack’s hand, interlocking their fingers, needing the contact.

“Sap,” he joked.

“Kettle, meet pot,” she retorted, smiling. 

“I’m literally dying, and you two are still going at each other, I don’t know how you’ll survive without me,” Daniel laughed, letting his own tears fall.

“Neither do we.” Peggy looked Jack in the eyes and saw the sentiment reflected.

Daniel just let out a noise of comfort and pulled them both closer.

In that moment, the three of them together, crying on the sofa, was all that they needed. And oh God, were they going to enjoy what was afforded them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some information on what Daniel is diagnosed with, in case anyone is interested!
> 
> https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/idiopathic-pulmonary-fibrosis/


	3. But alive, gloriously alive, today

_June, 1951_

“Couldn’t sleep?” Daniel asked the figure in the kitchen as he crutched in, not having donned his leg yet.

The figure put a mug of coffee at Daniel’s place and he reached for it gratefully, sliding into his place at the breakfast bar.

“I can’t believe they’ve kept him in for three days. I bet you’re going mad, having them stuck there.” 

“Well, they might be coming home today, so at least we’ll all be reunited. Could you pass the milk, please?”

“You know Peggy’s gonna want to come out of the hospital herself, no wheelchair, no nothing,” Jack put the milk in Daniel’s hand and a kiss on his temple. “Good morning,”

Daniel sighed. “I know. It’s probably gonna take both of us and the nurses to convince her to be wheeled out.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Michael properly though, rather than just through the glass. There are some benefits to being legally tied up, I suppose.”

“Okay, Mr Love-Isn’t-Real, c’mere,” He wrapped an arm around Jack’s waist. “You’re driving, you know that?”

“Yes, sir, Captain Sousa, sir,”

“Jack!”

* * *

As they pulled into the car park, it was hard to tell who was more nervous. Daniel was tapping his good leg and Jack was scratching at the leather of the wheel. A sigh escaped the pair, as they steeled themselves for the probably very fed up Peggy they’d encounter when they got to the ward.

Jack hung back a bit while Daniel signed in at the desk, and only dared to fall in step with him after he was motioned over and down the long corridor and up some stairs. Daniel could feel a hand floating at his lower back as they ascended. They passed a window showing rows and rows of cribs, and he looked to the furthest corner, where he knew their child was.

Turning the corner they came to the maternity ward, and a quick scan of the room determined that Peggy was not in her bed, as had been the case the past few days.

“Ah Mr. Sousa, good to see you again. Your wife is somewhere on this floor. We gave up trying to keep her to this room yesterday; if you want to wait by her bed I’ll see if I can find her."

“Thank you, Nurse Evans,”

“And who is this?” she motioned towards Jack. 

“Oh - an uncle. Not biologically, but a very close friend of ours.”

Jack nodded curtly, as Nurse Evans hurried off to find Peggy.

Daniel took a seat and watched Jack out of the side of his eye, taking everything in. The ward was painted in a very pale peachy pink, almost washed out, with heavy privacy curtains separating each cubicle. There was a bedside table by each bed, most adorned with a bunch of flowers or a stalkful of grapes. Peggy’s had a pile of books brought from home; brought to alleviate the boredom, because ‘oh my lawd, Daniel I am going stir crazy sitting here doing bugger all apart from stare at these hospital magazines containing nothing but drivel’, and these were a compromise instead of actual case files, incorrigible as she was.

He stretched his back out against the hard plastic chair and flipped through one of the books, finding little entertaining. It was just one of those sappy romance novels Peggy, he had discovered, had a soft spot for.

Just then, Jack tapped him on the shoulder and was greeted with the sight of Peggy in the doorway, hospital gown on and child in arms, walking towards them with such serenity to perfectly contradict the enmity in her words.

“If I am forced to live under the cast iron fist of Matron Powell one day longer, I think I might end up committing a felony.” she all but growled.

Jack put an arm around her waist, just high enough to still look platonic.

“Good to see you again, doll,”

Peggy cracked a smile. “I will punch you in the nose if you call me that again, dear,”

She held out the squirming bundle to Jack and motioned for him to take it. He looked between Peggy, and Daniel, and the blankets, as if to ask permission.

“You won’t break him,” Peggy laughed. She brought him around and positioned his arms, so she could transfer Michael over. She pulled Jack down at the same time, and whispered in his ear - “He’s your child too,”

Jack nodded solemnly and looked at the tiny being in his arms in wonderment.

“I think he might have your nose, Sousa,”

He held Michael up in Daniel’s direction, so that he could see too, and he reached out and stroked his cheek.

“He’s a bit red, isn’t he?”

“You’ve turned into a worrywort already, Dad?” Jack quipped.

“Says the man who has been buzzing around this whole week,” Daniel winked back.

“Alright Danny boy - ” he started, grinning. 

A small cough echoed from behind them. 

“I understand Mrs Sousa is being discharged today, so if it is alright I’ll go and get a wheelchair and you can take it to the car. You have clothes with you, Mr Sousa?”

He nodded in the affirmative, pointed to the bag next to his chair, and started to crutch out, motioning for Jack, who was now cooing at baby Michael, to come with him. Normally he would have stayed with Peggy, knowing she wouldn’t have minded, but he had become uncomfortably aware of ‘Society’ once it had become the three of them.

Not a minute later was Peggy throwing back the curtains and making hand motions for Michael, declaring she hadn’t felt this human in a week. She began to walk towards the exit, slightly stiffly, he noticed, before he let out a noise of protest. She turned, and he started - 

“At least wait for the wheelchair, let us help you,”

She rolled her eyes, but acquiesced, which caused the boys to look at each other in confusion. How they were to find themselves rolling her out of the hospital, babe in arms, Jack pushing, was to be forever a mystery.

* * *

Once home though, Peggy collapsed onto the sofa with Michael on top of her and slept through until the mid-afternoon, neither having the heart to wake her. Michael started cooing, more and more insistently until Peggy started to stir in response. 

A sight he would have to get used to, Daniel thought as he turned the corner into the lounge to find her staring at her own chest, more accurately at Michael’s small mouth, trying to get him to latch on. He sat down on the armchair opposite her, trying to hide his curiosity. He had been in the same room when Ines and Tillie had breastfed, but had always averted his eyes out of respect. Granted he wasn’t sure he should be looking here either, Peggy hadn’t said anything. She looked up and smiled at him.

“Gonna have to share them with another one now too,”

“He can’t be as greedy as Jack, I’ll live,” he chuckled. A good-natured ‘Hey!’ echoed from the kitchen.

Peggy let out a laugh. “Don’t think I can’t see you trying not to watch. I’ll show you how it works, later, if you want. Nurse Evans was a gem, she told me all the science they think is behind it. Clearly I asked too many questions.”

Daniel nodded. Michael let out a little squeal, and Peggy lifted him up.

“Do you want to burp him?”

His eyes widened at the request.

“C’mon, I’ll show you. You’ll need this,” she chucked a cloth rag over his shoulder, “and this,” she smiled, passing him Michael. “Now, gently pat him on the back, or rub little circles.” 

He did, wondering at how small this being was.

“You can stand up and transfer weight from foot to foot too, that apparently helps,”

Daniel followed suit, and stood rocking him, noting how different each leg felt with the weight on it, and Peggy’s head on his shoulder.

“Look at that, the perfect little family,” Jack poked his head around the door, hand still stuck with a dishcloth and mug.

“You’re part of it Jack, get over here,” Daniel said, and motioned with the hand not supporting Michael.

Putting the dishcloth and mug on the table, he came up to the other side of Daniel, and almost on cue, Michael burped. Followed by a peal of laughter.

* * *

He felt, rather than saw, Peggy’s pillow come over her head in reaction to the now screaming child in the other room. 

“That’s the third time tonight, can one of you go and get him,” she almost begged, “Please,”

“I’ll get him, my crutches are here,” he said, sliding out of bed.

Twenty minutes later he was still standing by the crib with a squalling baby in his hands. He decided a change of scenery may help, so he awkwardly hopped outside to the porch, skirting the furniture and walls, Michael held firmly in the other hand.

He stepped out, the small bundle in his arms quietening, squirming at the sudden bright porch light, gazing at the most precious gift he’d ever had. And oh God, was he going to enjoy what was afforded him.


End file.
